As anniversaries pass, victims find meaning, less pain in memories

Monday

Dec 16, 2013 at 6:00 AMDec 16, 2013 at 1:28 PM

By Susan Spencer TELEGRAM & GAZETTE STAFF

Twenty-five years ago, Jeannine and Ronald Boulanger of Shrewsbury were looking forward to the return of their younger daughter, 21-year-old Nicole, from her Syracuse University semester in London. The house was decorated, gifts were under the tree and Mr. and Mrs. Boulanger set out by car to meet Nicole's plane, Pan Am Flight 103, at John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York.

Four years ago, Leonard and Cherylann Gengel were getting ready to celebrate Christmas in their Rutland home with their 19-year-old daughter Britney and two teenage sons.

A year ago this past week, the families of 6- and 7-year-old children sent their little ones off to Sandy Hook Elementary School and staff members embarked on another school day in Newtown, Conn.

None of these families, or the horrified nation that soon looked on, knew that their worlds were about to fall apart.

While much of the world celebrates the season's holidays, those who lost loved ones in massive tragedies face a different sort of remembrance.

Life forever changed for families of victims of such events as the magnitude-7.0 earthquake that killed hundreds of thousands of people in Haiti, including Lynn University student Britney Gengel, on Jan. 12, 2010; or the terrorist bombing of Pan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland, on Dec. 21, 1988, which killed all 259 on board including Nicole Boulanger and 34 other Syracuse students, as well as 11 people on the ground; and the fatal shooting of 20 students and six staff members at Sandy Hook Elementary School on Dec. 14, 2012, by 20-year-old Adam Lanza.

Newtown residents chose not to hold a public commemoration of the Sandy Hook shooting's anniversary, asking members of the press to leave them in peace.

Instead, as Newtown psychiatrist Dr. John Woodall wrote in The Newtown Bee, the community is asked to honor the victims by embarking on a year of service.

"We committed ourselves to not allow this terrible event and subsequent fear, anger and bitterness to define us," Dr. Woodall wrote. "Service to others breaks the isolation and disempowerment that are the corrosive factors in dysfunctional grief. … Ultimately, to be healthy, grief must become a commitment to be of help to others."

"As a culture, we have the sense that people grieve and then they put it behind themselves," said Leonard A. Doerfler, a clinical psychologist and director of the counseling psychology program at Assumption College. Mr. Doerfler, who has a doctorate degree, is also an adjunct faculty member in psychiatry at University of Massachusetts Medical School.

There is no set amount of time for how people come to terms with loss, the research indicates. And studies suggest that the nature of the trauma, whether it was man made, like a bombing or shooting, or a natural disaster also influences victims' grieving process.

"If it's something that was done to someone by another human being, the meaning of that is different," he said.

But whatever the cause of death, grieving and adjusting to a new life follow an individual path. And it's not unusual for victims' loved ones to engage in activities to do good, to create meaning out of the death.

"They're trying to make sense of what happened," Mr. Doerfler said. "They're trying to do something so they have a personal sense that though a life was lost, through them (the bereaved) as an agent, they're trying to do something to improve life for all of us."

Complicated grief, as it's called, occurs when people sink into debilitating depression, withdraw from relationships and activities that used to be enjoyable and aren't able to pick up the pieces in their lives. That's an indication that something could be changed, perhaps with professional help, Mr. Doerfler said.

It's not just anniversaries of the death that bring back intense feelings for grieving families. Other markers, including Thanksgiving dinner or a family gathering where there's an empty seat can be equally painful.

"Things will come up that remind them their loved ones died. There will be sadness. That's what it's like to be alive," he said. "With the passage of time, for most people the distress level seems to go down."

"Every year it's tough," Mrs. Boulanger said. "Twenty-five years — my husband and I are surprised we're still here."

The Boulangers' trail over the last quarter century covered two major trials of Libyan nationals, international terrorism, the murder of Col. Moammar Gadhafi in an uprising and numerous appearances before Congress by members of the group Victims of Pan Am Flight 103.

Each time another terrorist event or aviation attack came to light, it stirred renewed emotions, she said.

Mrs. Boulanger, a retired nursing professor and former group leader with The Compassionate Friends, a support group for those who have lost a child, said she has spoken out over the years about the Lockerbie bombing because, "You don't want that child to ever be forgotten — and she hasn't."

She said: "Out of something very tragic, a lot of good has come out of it. My daughter only had 21 years. How dare I spend my life without meaning?"

Mr. Gengel said his family was inspired by his daughter's last text message saying she loved Haiti and wanted to return and start an orphanage. The message was sent three hours before the earthquake struck, killing Britney in the rubble of the Hotel Montana in Port-au-Prince.

Last January, the Be Like Brit orphanage, a 19,000-square-foot earthquake-proof structure opened in the coastal town of Grand Goave, Haiti.

"It's been a journey," said Mr. Gengel, who made 39 trips to the island in 2011 and 2012 to oversee construction. "Today we have 35 children living in Brit's orphanage. It's given us a place to put our heartache and our love for our daughter, to honor her last wish."

Mr. Gengel said that the turmoil surrounding Britney's death was excruciating and very public, but he felt he had to keep the public involved to help Haiti.

"I believe every person grieves differently when they lose a child. It's the most unnatural thing in the world. Your life turns upside down," Mr. Gengel said. Working on the orphanage helped him put one foot in front of the other.

"Now we can't see ourselves doing anything else," he said. "It's a twist of irony."

This week, the Gengels are heading to Italy to celebrate Christmas. It's their first vacation in four years. They have an audience with the pope Dec. 18 and will be at St. Peter's Square in Vatican City for midnight Mass on Christmas Eve.

Edward T. O'Donnell, an associate professor of history at the College of the Holy Cross, said that over time, the public responds to tragedies by "slowly but surely forgetting them."

He said: "In the short term, the memory is very fresh. … With every passing year, it starts to fall further and further back in people's minds."

Mr. O'Donnell had planned to be in New York City on Sept. 11, 2001, the day terrorists hijacked airplanes that crashed into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and a field in Pennsylvania. A schedule change at the last minute caused him to switch travel plans by a few days.

Ironically, Mr. O'Donnell was working on a book about a 1904 steamboat fire in the East River that killed 1,000 people and received intense media coverage at the time, but has since been forgotten.

Even the events of 9/11 have begun to move to a less visceral part of the public's memory. The memorial at ground zero, where the twin towers stood and thousands perished, has become a tourist attraction.

"People are running around taking pictures. It's becoming less personal and more institutionalized," Mr. O'Donnell said.

"Over time," he said, "we've got to go back to the business of living."

Contact Susan Spencer at susan.spencer@telegram.com. Follow her on Twitter @SusanSpencerTG.